


Parallel Lives

by Pluperfect_Lover



Series: Parallel Lives [1]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas Time, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Self-Doubt, Some angst, a little smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:34:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22471135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pluperfect_Lover/pseuds/Pluperfect_Lover
Summary: Armie is balancing being a single dad as well as can be expected, but then the agency sends a new nanny. Will Armie find the confidence to speak to the brilliant and charming Timothée?
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Series: Parallel Lives [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1633897
Comments: 89
Kudos: 133





	1. When I Saw You

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to @thinmint74 and @DontSqueezeTheCharmie for editing and providing guidance!

“Daddddddddy! I can’t find Arthur!!!”

And that is pretty well how the last thirty minutes of my life has been going. I was so prepared tonight. The kids and I had enjoyed a great day outside at the Christmas Market, gone ice-skating, went to our favourite neighbourhood diner for dinner, and had come home in plenty of time for me to get the munchkins settled. Bathtime, check. Clean PJs, check. Hair dried and brushed and in Harper’s case braided, check. All the night nanny will have to do is give them a snack, brush their teeth, and read a story or two, before the munchkins fall fast to sleep… 

But if we can’t find Arthur, all will be for naught.

“Dadddddddeeeeeeee!”

“Yes, Harper,” I bend down to her eye-level, “I know you are upset, but how do big girls ask for help?”

Precious Ford looks up from his pile of Lego for only a moment looking at us curiously, before continuing to build his skyscraper. My boy is always the observer, and seldom makes a peep. Harper is more than capable of speaking for the two.

Harper takes a few deep breaths, and then tries to calmly speak, “Daddy, I can’t find Arthur. He was waiting for me when we came home. I saw him beside the Christmas tree before my bath, but he has gone somewhere, and I cannot find him! I neeeeed Arthur!” Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes as she begins to wind up again.

_Knock, knock!_

“I understand how this must be upsetting you Hops. Darling, please wait a moment while I answer the door. That should be your nanny. I will then help you find Arthur.” I cup her cheek and stand up, turn towards our condo door, and glance at my watch. The nanny service is the best in the city and hasn’t let me down yet. Tonight is no exception. I asked for her to arrive at 7:00PM and it is 7:00PM sharp. I turned the handle, swinging the door wide open.

“Hello th-” The rest of my sentence is eaten by my lack of oxygen--I’m gobsmacked. This isn’t the typical fifty year old matronly nanny I am used to seeing from the agency. Here stands a… a… _an angel?_

“Hello yourself! I am Timothée from Miss Nancy’s Nanny Agency. I hope I’m on time. I cannot wait to meet Harper and Ford!” The tall, slender, elegant… MAN slides past me, walking straight for Harper and kneeling down towards her.

My brain is still not computing. I cannot make complete thoughts. I stand at the door, still holding it open, clearly longer than necessary.

“Nice to meet you Harper, I’m Timmy. You look a little sad missy. What’s wrong?”

Harper looks at me and then to Timmy. A smile creeps over her face. She gently grabs at one of the errant curls falling over Timothée’s, _or er, was that Timmy?_ eyes and pulls. It springs down and then up. A giggle escapes from her mouth, and he falls back feigning surprise.

“Timmy! Come with me! I have so much to show you!” Harper squeals with delight.

I finally regain my composure, and speak. “Harper honey, can you give Timmy and me a minute before I leave?”

She looks up and smiles, “Okay daddy,” and runs towards Ford and helps him with his towers.

Timmy stands up and reaches for a handshake. He is not much shorter than me. Hmmmm, a good height. His hair (already inspected by Harper) is absolute perfection. Beautiful ringlets, but still untame. His face superb, his hands delicate, his throat splendid, his rosy lips pouty … _okay, okay Hammer, get a grip here!_

The handshake itself is firm, but I can’t help but notice how my giant mitt engulfs his. I love the feeling of him being so much smaller than me… _okay Hammer you really need to pull it together NOW!_

Timothée interrupts my thoughts, “The agency has shared all the relevant elements of your file with me electronically. It is a weekend night, so I want to confirm that bedtime is for 8:30 tonight and not their usual weeknight 7:30, correct Mister Hammer?”

“Call me Armie.”

“Oh, okay, Armie. And are the suitable bedtime snacks still in the cupboard beside the stove?”

I reached up to stretch… I don’t know what else to do with my hands. I have a strange need to reach out and touch Timmy’s hand again.

I try to play it cool. “Yes, the snacks are exactly there. Bedtime is 8:30, but I bet with a story or two these two will be fast asleep before 8:30. We had a big day today.” I lean in and whisper to Timothée, catching a whiff of citrus and coriander, _hmmm, is that soap or cologne I’m smelling?_ “Harper is upset. She cannot find Arthur her wonder-pig. She should be fine, but you’ll need to distract her with one of her other stuffed toys.” I leaned back and catch a glimmer of the Christmas lights in Timmy’s eyes… _are those green flecks I see?_

“Thanks for the tip Mister, er, I mean Armie. The kids and I will be just fine. I’m on the look-out for the wonder-pig! I’ll see you around eleven.”

And with his reassurance, I kiss the kids goodbye, put on my navy suit jacket and wrap my favourite Burberry scarf around my neck. As I shut the door behind me, I lean my back onto it, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. _What the fuck was that? Who the fuck is this Timothée?_

*****

I get to the restaurant a few minutes _(okay, a lot of minutes)_ late. Perhaps it will be interpreted as casually late? I would have been on-time if I hadn’t been daydreaming of Timothée and missed my stop at Union, ending up at St. Andrew instead. Thank goodness my long legs let me backtrack quickly and the winter sidewalks are pretty much clear of pedestrians which makes navigation easy.

I see Sadie absentmindedly scrolling through her phone as I navigate the crowded Library Bar. We have been making it a habit of meeting every month or so to hang out and in her words _“catch up.”_ She was worried when my marriage ended that I was going to become a recluse. Her concerns were not too far off, because when I don’t have the munchkins I find myself more nights than not home by 7:00, cooking for one, and then settling down with a book and maybe a bourbon. _I have read more books in the past year and a half than I did in my first thirty years!_

I slide up silently beside her and clear my throat.

“Arms! Where have you been? You’re lucky you’re so awesome, or I would’ve left fifteen minutes ago! No one but _you_ can make me wait!” She leaps up, gives me our customary two kiss greeting and hug. _One or both of us think we’re European._ “Sit, sit! I told Jacques that as soon as he saw you walk in to bring you a martini. He’s on his way already with it!”

As I settle into the leather wingback chair at our usual table beside one of the only windows in the place, a martini magically appears in front of me. Ahhhh, Sadie knows how to look after me! _I wonder if Timothée is as thoughtful… I am sure he is… He was so in tune with Harper and he had just met her… And Harper is such a good judge of character and she took to Timmy in a second..._

“...Armie? Armie? I feel like while you’re technically physically here, your mind is not. Are the kids okay? Did you and Liam fight again? I told you to stop reacting to his jabs. You’re divorced now, you do not need to take his shit anymore.”

“Huh? Yes! Right. Yes, I am here. The kids are great. Liam is Liam, but to be honest, we’re manageable right now… I know you’re not going to believe this, but I am thinking about a boy.”

“A boy, eh? A boy? Or a boy-boy?” Sadie’s eyebrows arch and her voice becomes sultry.

Neighbouring tables will no doubt be confused by the coded language that Sadie and I conduct most of our conversation in. We’re two peas in a pod. We met our first year at university before I was out. We never dated, but it was quite clear that she wanted to, and thankfully I never fell victim to her not-so-subtle flirting. _And while not “out” I was pretty sure I was gay and not bi._ Eventually her sexual interest in me waned but our friendship didn’t. I _finally_ figured out how to date guys (or rather I went to a gay club finally and met someone), and by third year it was sorted. I was Sadie’s GBF and she was my hag. A friendship made in heaven!

“A boy-boy, er, I mean a man. But a beautiful man,” I stammer.

“Ooooh Armie! I’m so excited! Where did you meet? What does he do? How beautiful is beautiful--he better not be prettier than me! Deets Arms! Give me details!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! I literally just met him.”

“Huh?”

“He’s the kid’s nanny tonight. We had less than five minutes of interaction before I had to leave.”

“You’re thinking about a guy you literally met for less than five minutes? You know the clerk at the grocery store better than you know this guy. Does he have magical powers? Has he enchanted you?”

A smile breaks across my face, “Well maybe?” I grab my martini and take a long sip.

“Wow. The great ice-king Armand Hammer thaws. You know it has been nearly six months since your divorce and another year before that of separation, and you have not ONCE mentioned a guy to me… and now, you meet someone for FIVE minutes? So what DO you know? A name perhaps?”

The smile that started a few minutes ago on my face is now a full blown goofy grin. “I’m glad you have been keeping such accurate stats on my dating life Sadie. His name, by the way, is Timothée.”

Sadie’s eyebrows twitch again. “Ooooh Français! How exotic! Tell me more.”

“He’s punctual.”

“That’s hot.”

“He has a firm handshake.”

“How firm?” It is clear Sadie is implying something else.

“Very, very firm.” I pause and give her a knowing nod. “And did I mention his hair? Even Harper was fascinated by it. She actually got to touch it! I have never been so jealous of my daughter!”

There’s a long pause where Sadie just smirks at me. “Yah, so okay… I think it time for you to go home,” she finally says.

“Huh? Why? I’ve only had one martini. We have a minimum three martini policy on gay/hag date nights!”

“Yup, but right now there is a REAL MAN sitting in your home--yes, technically being paid to be there--not doing much, as I am sure Hops and Ford were entranced by Timothée the French nanny too…”

“Sade, he’s not really French.”

“Besides the point Armie! GO. TO. HIM.” She coughs. “I am suddenly feeling quite ill.” Sadie gets up, gives me a big kiss on the forehead, and waves to Jacques for the bill. “Thanks Armie for picking up the drinks tonight. You’re a doll. Now go get laid.” She turns, grabbing her wrap from the coat check and is out the door before Jacques can even process my credit card.

*****

I ride the elevator up to the 40th floor. I look at my watch. It is almost 9:45.

I enter the condo quietly not wanting to disturb Harper and Ford. As I turn from the foyer to the living room, I find Timothée curled in the corner of the sectional with the reading light on, snuggled under the pale pink cashmere throw. _My god, he’s ethereal._ His eyes are closed. I see a magazine opened on his lap and Arthur the wonder-pig wedged at his side. As soon as I place my keys on the credenza, his eyes open.

“Heeeey there!” Timmy stretches.

“Hi!” The goofy grin from earlier tonight revisits my face. “My friend wasn’t feeling well, so we called it an early night.”

“Hey, not a problem at all. The munchkins…”

_He just called them munchkins, that’s my name for my kids!_

“...went to bed exactly as you predicted. My god, Ford is the chillest kid I’ve ever met. And I took your advice and distracted Harper with other toys and she never mentioned Arthur. Although I did locate him when I sat down to read! Ta-da! The wonder-pig!” Timothée reaches beside him, triumphantly holding Arthur as though he has found the Holy Grail. “Do you want to look in on the kids?”

_My god this guy is perfection! Hammer, but at this moment you are a parent..._

“Right, yes, I should look in on the kids.” I excuse myself and walk down the hall towards their rooms.

Ford’s room has the requisite night light and white noise soundtrack playing. Geez, this guy really does read the notes! Ford’s stuffed bear is firmly in his grip. In Hops’ room I can make out a gaggle of stuffed animals surrounding her. Timothée wasn’t lying when he said he distracted her. I think every doll and plush toy she owns is in her bed tonight! I close her door softly and return to the living room.

Timothée is beginning to gather his things. I have to say something! _Come on Hammer, turn on the charm!_

“So…” I start stretching my arms again. _What fresh hell is this new nervous twitch?!_ “I know that you were booked until 11 o’clock. What will you do with yourself now?”

“Oh, uh, nothing probably. My friends are out tonight in The Village…”

_The Village?! The Gay Village! Does this mean?!..._

“...but to be honest I’ve had a busy week, and I don’t think I am up for a night of dancing,” Timothée shrugs.

“Well, I’m going to wind down with a bourbon. Would you like to join me now that you’re ‘off the clock’?”

His eyes perk up. He bites his lower lip. _My god, his nibbling could be pornographic!_

It is clear he is considering the offer.

“Suuuuure. Why not? It’s my last night working for Nancy. I deserve a celebratory drink.”

“That’s the spirit!” I concur. I motion for Timothée to return to where he was sitting and I spin towards the bar cart and pour us two neat 15-year old Barrells.

I pass Timothée his tumbler. Our fingers graze for a moment, causing both of us to lock eyes before he smiles and moves his hand back with the glass now firmly in his hand.

I regain composure. “So this is your last night working for the agency?”

Timothée takes a sip and nods. “Wow! This is really good! Is that a butterscotch note?...”

_And he knows bourbon?! That’s it, I am taking him off the market!_

“...Yes, I have been working for Nancy while I finished my graduate degree. I finally defended my thesis at the end of the summer and have now landed a full-time job in my field. I won’t need this side-hustle to pay the bills!” He grins and takes another sip.

“That’s pretty impressive. I know it’s tough to land a job in your chosen field for many graduates. What did you study?”

“My undergrad was in psychology, but my graduate degrees have focused on child psychology, and in the end I did my research on play-therapy.” There is a passion in his voice and an enthusiasm that radiates. “I will be working at Sick Kids Hospital ensuring that children in long-term care have healthy ways to express their fears and frustrations with their treatment.”

I’m gob-smacked for the second time tonight. _This guy is not only hot as fuck, he’s smart too!_

“That’s inspiring.” I take another sip, I am lost for words and to be honest, and I’m feeling pretty fucking intimidated by this… this…

“So, are you THE Armie Hammer mentioned in the _Toronto Life_ article?” He points towards the magazine.

I blush. _Fuck, I didn’t realize he was reading that magazine!_

“Yes… I was a little surprised to see the article mention me, but it is really nothing. Volunteering and contributing to the community is important. The LGBTQ Film Festival seemed like an obvious organization for me to co-chair.”

Timothée gnaws on his lower lip again, _fuck this guy is going to kill me_ , looking as though he is trying to compose his thoughts. “So I hope this doesn’t sound too nosey, but how long have you and your partner been split up?”

I am taken aback. I wasn’t expecting this question. “How did you know about my divorce?”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, I don’t mind talking about it. But shit, do I look like a sad, old divorcee?”

He grins and snickers. “No you don’t! Not at all! Uh, I was just reviewing the notes from the agency and I noticed the emergency contact for the kids after you was their father Liam. While I’m not the brightest guy in the world, I put two and two together and it equalled you as a _hot_ divorced dad.” Timothée’s neck and face flush red, and he quickly looks down into his almost empty glass.

I blush as well and my stomach flips, too. _This guy is BOLD._ I sure as hell wasn’t ready to put my cards out so quickly. But how do I respond?... _Be suave Hammer…_

I stand up. “Want another?” I grab Timothée’s glass in one swoop, and head to the bar cart. I pour myself a fresh one and await his reply.

“Uh, if you don’t mind?”

“Not at all. My pleasure.” I fill his tumbler, hand it back and sit a little closer to him on the sofa.

We continue to chat comfortably. _Perhaps we’re flirting?_ But I am so out of practice, I don’t know what the hell I am doing.

I fill up our glasses a third time, sitting down this time so that my knee can occasionally graze his foot under the blanket. I feel an electric jolt every time we make contact.

When our third drinks are done, I grab some water for both of us, and we continue to talk some more.

It is nearly 1:30 when Timothée looks at his watch and indicates that it is time for him to leave.

I get up with him and walk him to the door. I am feeling a little light-headed; I am not entirely sure how he’s walking so confidently.

I lean against the foyer wall, with one arm at my hip, trying to look… _cool?_ I swipe my hands through my hair. “It was really nice meeting you Timothée…” I look at him with dreamy eyes. _Fuck, he has me hook, line and sinker._

He smirks and looks me in the eye. “Same, Armie.” He pauses and scrunches his mouth and nose. “So, I guess, I’ll see you around?”

_No wait! You can’t leave! Not without me figuring out how to contact you again!_

I snap out of it. “So, uh, I’m taking the kids to the Children’s Christmas Festival down near the Exhibition tomorrow. Would you… Would you like to join us? I am sure Hops and Ford would love for you to join us.” _I would love for you to join us._

A big toothy grin breaks out across Timothée’s face. “Yah, that would be great. I’d really like that.” He reaches into his bag, grabs a pen and paper, and quickly jots something down. He tears it off the pad, pauses and looks up at me.

He steps forward, grabs my shirt collar, and pulls me towards him. He stuffs the note into my shirt pocket, and boldly leans in and gives me a kiss on my cheek. “That’s my number. I really hope I hear from you later today.”

Timothée spins elegantly, and is out the door in a flash.

I stand there star-struck for a minute, finally reaching into my pocket.

“My friends call me Timmy 647-555-1113”

_Fuck Hammer, You. Are. In. Trouble._


	2. I Fell In Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armie and Timmy take the munchkins to a children's festival. Armie realizes that there is no use hiding his interest from Timmy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to @thinmint74 and @DontSqueezeTheCharmie for their assistance in editing. I am sure they struggled to find a plot hidden between the fluff!

**AH:** Hey Timmy? It’s Armie from last night.

 **TC:** Armie? Armie who?

 **AH:** … …

 **TC:** Jk dude. What’s up?

 **AH:** Would you still like to come with me and the kids to the festival?

 **TC:** Totally! I want to see Fordy excited! He was soooo chill last night.

 **AH:** We’re going to take the Yonge line to Union and then hop onto the 509.

 **TC:** Perfect, I’ll meet you near the 509 platform. When?

 **AH:** 1pm?

 **TC** : Syt

 **AH:** <Thumbs up emoji>

_Okay Hammer, you’ve done it! It is all set up. BUT You definitely need to learn this texting lingo--What the fuck does SYT mean? JK? Maybe ‘Joking’? FUCK at least pretend you’re hip!_

Pulling the munchkins together is less challenging than I think. When I mention that Timmy will be joining us for the afternoon, I am lauded as a god (or at least the kids willingly follow directions). The subway ride south to Union goes without a hitch, and both kids entertain me and fellow passengers with their adorable renditions of carols. Even the curmudgeonly man huddled near the door cracks a smile.

We navigate the busy transit hub, and as we make the corner to the streetcar platform, Hops zeros-in on Timmy who scrolls his phone, not noticing us yet.

An unearthly shriek erupts from Hops, “Timmmmyyyyyyyy!” She pulls away from my hand. And even with headphones on, Timmy hears the rally-cry and turns, bending down with arms wide open as Hops leaps towards him. A gigantic smile is on his face as he pulls her in for a hug.

Ford stays at my side, but he pulls me faster towards Timmy.

Timmy looks up from the Harper bear hug towards Ford and me. “Fordy! My little dude!” Timmy reaches out for a high-five, which Ford quickly slaps. Timmy then pulls him in for a hug too.

After greeting the kids, Timmy stands up. His smile seems to get even bigger. _How is that possible?_ “Armie! Nice to see you man.” Timmy nods at me, but doesn’t come closer. There’s a moment where neither of us know what to do.

“Daddy, why aren’t you giving a hug to Timmy?” Harper queries.

_Shit, even the six year old sees the physical awkwardness between us._

“It’s okay Hops, Timmy and I will hug each other later. Quick, let’s queue for the next streetcar. It’ll be here soon!” I make eye contact with Timmy, we nod at each other with a smile. He grabs Ford’s hand and I take Harper’s and we walk towards the waiting zone.

*****

The streetcar is quite full and we manage to only get seats for the munchkins, leaving Timmy and me standing face-to-face with very little space. The kids settle looking out the window, with Harper providing a guided tour commentary to Ford, leaving time for Timmy and me to chat.

“So…” 

_Yup that is my smooth opening. I know I am grinning like a goof. Might as well place heart emojis in my eyes right now._

“So…” Timmy smirks, making eye contact and then looks away towards the kids.

More awkward silence, until Timmy mercifully says, “That was some excellent bourbon last night. I’ve never had anything so smooth before. And it was so strong! What was it?”

 _A conversation I can get passionate about!_

“It was a 15 year old blend from Barrell. I had a case of it shipped from the States. It’s 105 proof. It is one of my favourites too.”

A quiet whistle comes from Timmy’s lips. _My god, could his lips be any more kissable? Now he is puckering them in front of me!_ “Wow, that’s a commitment--a case of bourbon! I have a hard time ordering the same beer twice!” Timmy smiles, and you can see the devil in his eyes.

Suddenly the streetcar jostles, bouncing the standing passengers around. Timmy lurches forward, falling into my chest, his hands come to rest around my shoulders. He pauses for a moment, both of us taken aback and holding our breaths. Timmy and I lock eyes and hold it, he bites his lip again, and then slowly, nervously licks his lower lip before regaining his composure and standing back up on his own.

“See Fordy, they’re hugging now!” Harper points out to her brother.

*****

The afternoon is a whirl of excitement. The festival is actually indoors so we’re able to comfortably wander in our sweaters. Timmy and I are both beginning to resemble sherpas as we carry stuffed toy prizes, bags of cotton candy, a fairy wand and a pirate sword. The munchkins run into a supervised play area where I have to sign the kids in. They will not be able to leave until I sign them out, showing my ID. How convenient! It is basically an opportunity for daddy to have a time-out and flirt with his Timmy. _What a brilliant system!_

I spot an empty bench and motion for Timmy to sit. We flop onto it, and collectively take a deep breath.

“Oh - my - god - Armie! How do you do it? We’ve been here for less than two hours and I feel like I have been run over by a truck! Don’t get me wrong, I am having a great time! Where else could I get a unicorn painted on my cheek?” Timmy leans towards me pointing at his glittery right cheek.

I snicker and add, “And Thor’s hammer painted on your left? You’re a good sport getting matching face paint with the munchkins. That is above and beyond dude!”

“Their wishes are my command!” Timmy sweeps his hands and bows.

_If he is this amiable to my kids, I wonder what he would agree to do for me?_

I slide a little closer and smile at him. Timmy arches his brows, smiles back and slides even closer towards me. Our hips and knees touch. My body feels like a livewire. Timmy breathes in deep again and nestles into my side. I take the opportunity to wrap my arm around his shoulders. We both sit there. Taking in the chaos running around us, and just breathing. Breathing in synch.

“This is great Timmy. Thank you for coming.”

“You’re welcome. I’m really glad I’m here too.” He draws another deep breath. “You know I was worried when I was leaving your place last night that you were not going to say anything to me. You were giving me all the signs that you were interested, but I didn’t want to push you. Maybe you weren’t ready to date.”

“Wait, I was giving you signs?”

Timmy laughs out loud, “YES!” He sits back upright. “Your signs were clear enough for a first year psych student to interpret.”

“Really? What did I do?”

“Oh my god Armie, really?!” Timmy rolls his eyes and begins to list. 

“Number one, everytime you brought me another drink, you sat closer to me. I think by the time the water round came out, you were ‘accidentally’ grazing my foot occasionally. 

_Oops, that’s true._

“Number two, you kept rolling your sleeves up and down, emphasizing your arms--like I could somehow not notice how in shape you already were!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. There’s no way I was doing that. That’s an a-hole move!”

“Dude you were doing it. Good news is that it’s human nature, so you really have no control over it.”

“Phew, okay. Glad I am not an intentional asshole. So was there anything else?”

“You kept your stance open towards me the entire night.”

“Huh?”

“You never crossed your legs away from me. You basically kept yourself ‘open for business.’” With that comment, Timmy smirks again. 

“Lastly right before you asked me out, you kept playing with your hair. Preening is a classic mating ritual.”

_Fuck - fuck - fuck. I don’t know if I entirely agree with him, but if even half of what Timmy says is true: A) He is brilliant. B) I’m more fucked than I thought._

I raise my hands. “You got me! I am a walking flirt cliché! BUT, I will point out that it must have worked even a little, because you’re here!”

“Hey, I never said it didn’t work. I’m human and I respond to these signals too, just like everyone else! The question is, what are you going to do now with this information Mister Hammer?”

I grin. I’d love to pick Timmy up and drag him to a quiet corner and show him a few things, BUT _I am busy being a parent right now._

“Pizza.”

“Pizza?” A confused Timmy replies.

“Yes, pizza. I think you should join me and the munchkins for pizza tonight. We go every Sunday when I have them. There’s a family Italian restaurant in Cabbagetown--a quick Uber from the condo. Will you join us?”

“Well you’re in luck. That is pretty well the best meal offer I have received in a while. Your kids are awesome, and you’re not too bad. I would be happy to join you and the munchkins for dinner.” Timmy leans in, bumping his head into my shoulder, and then snuggles back into my side.

We collectively breathe in again. _Perfection!_

*****

The rest of the day goes perfectly. On the subway ride back to the condo the munchkins _and_ Timmy partake in singing carols, with Timmy convincing other passengers to join in. By the time we reach Bloor station it feels like we’re in the middle of a Christmas movie.

The ten minute walk from the station to the condo is like we have cut to another movie as fresh snow falls and a beautiful stillness takes hold of the cityscape. Timmy lifts Ford onto his shoulders and piggybacks him, while Harper and I hold hands and swing exaggeratedly. _I don’t think my heart could be any fuller at this moment. It is going to burst!_

At dinner Timmy continues to enchant my children and me. He demonstrates his ability to fold napkins into various shapes--apparently courtesy of a high school part-time job. The kids end up creating a whole puppet show between ordering and our pizza arriving. Timmy also asks to order the wine for the two of us from the extensive list. He manages to select an incredible moderately priced bottle that compliments the tangey sauce and toppings. We greedily finish the bottle before all the pizza is consumed. The laughter from our booth filters throughout the place. It feels so good to feel this happy. It has been a long time since I felt this much… Joy? Glee? Love?

As we walk out, Rosa the owner reaches for my arm, and pulls me down to her height so she can whisper in my ear, “Signore Hammer, it’s so good to see you smile. It’s been a while, no? That’s amore.” She gives me a kiss on the cheek, and lets my arm go.

I smile at her and nod. There is really nothing much more to add.

*****

The bedtime routine is quick. The munchkins are exhausted and do not put up a fight. They say their goodnights and willingly skip the bedtime stories, on condition that both Timmy and I tuck them into their beds.

Within thirty minutes of arriving home, the condo is silent.

Timmy and I look at each other and smile. I begin to walk towards Timmy when he speaks.

“Armie, today was so good. I had such a great time, but I need to get home. Tomorrow is my first day at my new job at Sick Kids.” He looks at his watch with worry.

I notice the time too. “Look it is only 7:30. How about you stay for just one bourbon? That’s it! I have to run around tonight too and prepare the kids’ things so they can go to their Papa’s house for the week. We both have busy nights ahead of us, but wouldn’t it be nice to have a few minutes to relax before life interrupts?” I look at Timmy with my best puppy dog eyes, and plead silently for just a few more minutes.

“Well how can I say no… to more of that fantastic bourbon? But I’m setting my alarm, I need to leave in twenty minutes!” He grabs his phone and sets it. _Oh my god, this guy is literally putting me on the clock!_ Timmy places his phone down, grins, spins towards the sofa, and twirls his finger, “One more drink bartender! And hurry it up!” He plops himself down onto the sofa--noticeably near to where I ended last night. _Hmmmm, now who is sending who signals Timmy?_

I pour us each a neat bourbon, and bring them to the couch, settling closely to Timmy.

He takes a glass, and holds it, admiring the cut crystal, the amber liquid and the twinkling of the Christmas lights shining through.

I stare at him while he daydreams into his glass watching the liquid swirl. There is something peaceful and comfortable with this moment.

He sighs. “These past twenty-four hours have been… unexpected?” He holds his glass still, taking a sniff, and then enjoying a big sip.

I smile. I know exactly what he means. “Yes. You certainly are not the typical nanny the agency sends to save me.”

“Disappointed?” A smirk growing on Timmy’s face.

“Welllllll…” as I lean closer into him. I catch the same scent from last night _citrus and coriander_ , but tonight it is more intense. _I wonder what he tastes like?_

Timmy catches the hint, and gestures to me to hand him my glass. He bends to gently place them on the coffee table. As he repositions himself on the sofa, he slyly slides himself onto my lap, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. His hand quickly maneuvers towards my hairline as he begins to run figure eights through my short collar hair.

Timmy leans in towards my ear and whispers, “I am sorry, Mister Hammer, that Miss Nancy’s Nanny Agency has surprised you with one Timothée Chalamet. While one of our youngest and more eager nannies, he comes with a host of skills that go beyond our typical services…” He gently bites my earlobe, and then sucks it slowly, pulling away until there’s a little ‘pop.’

I take the cue, wrap my hands around his lithe body, and pull him closer. I am on autopilot. There is no more thinking, just doing and responding.

With the little intelligence I have left in my brain I reply, “While initially surprised, I am sure this will work out fine. Now what other services does Timothée provide?” I smirk, cupping my hand on Timmy’s jaw and pulling him in for a kiss.

Our lips are shy and tentative at first, but I test the waters, lightly nibbling on his lower lip that has been taunting me for the past day. He takes a quick breath and then sighs. I lick into his mouth. He opens wider to welcome me, and another sound of pleasure escapes him. He grabs my hair even tighter and I moan into his mouth. The taste of bourbon from our nightcap only enhances the experience. I could kiss these lips forever… 

Quietly at first and then more loudly I hear the melodic sound of a harp. Why am I hearing a harp?

Timmy suddenly breaks our kiss and hops off me, grabbing his drink and shooting the rest of the liquid in his glass.

“That’s time Armie! Time for me to go!” Timmy grabs his phone, shutting off the alarm, and darting to the door.

I clamour to my feet--adjusting myself--geez, just when things were getting interesting. I follow Timmy to the door as he is tying his scarf around his neck.

“Thank you for everything Armie. You’ll call me? Or text me? Or maybe I will?”

I nod, unable to really make coherent thought, as most of my blood is no longer residing in my brain.

“Good. Well wish me luck on my new job,” and with that Timmy goes up on his toes, placing his two hands on the side of my face, and kisses me languidly, finishing with two quick pecks on the lips. He grins, and then elegantly spins, and is out the door.

I lean against the wall in the foyer, trying to understand what has happened in the last three minutes, and all I can think of is...

_BEST nanny service in the world! I need to make sure I give it an excellent Yelp review._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on Instagram. I've created little collages for each chapter. You can find me at @pluperfect_lover on IG.


	3. You Smiled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timmy helps Armie out of a pinch, but Armie is too anxious to appreciate it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to @thinmint74 and @DontSqueezeTheCharmie for their assistance in balancing fluff with angst. It's a challenging ratio to assess.

**SS:** So?

 **AH:** ???

 **SS:** Are you kidding me?

 **AH:** The boy?

 **SS:** YES THE FRENCH BOY!

 **AH:** Timmy is good.

 **SS:** It’s Timmy now? ;) AND???

 **AH:** You know you’re being very shouty today. I’m slammed at work. Susan my VP is mysteriously off work today, so I am having to pick up her calendar too. Her PA is coming by in a min to try to blend mine and Susan’s calendars. Not the way I needed my week to start.

 **SS:** Yes, yes. Poor you. The life of being the VP whipping boy. What about Timmy?

 **AH:** Seriously too busy. Lets me for a quickie drink around 6pm? Liam has the kids.

 **SS:** Fine! Make me wait.

 **AH:** <kiss emoji>

*****

Mondays are thankfully slower at The Library Bar. I easily get Sadie and me a table. I am a few minutes early, so I settle down and text Timmy.

 **AH:** How was the first day?

 **TC:** Awesome! So much to learn!

 **AH:** You strike me as someone who likes learning, Mr. Grad Degrees.

 **TC:** Touché. How was your day?

 **AH:** Total nightmare. My boss has left on a family emerg. Her PA & mine are trying to blend our calendars so I meet hers and my most pressing appts. I’m leaving it in their hands. I had no idea where I was going for most of the day. Just given a new folder, pushed towards a mtg rm, and then winged it. The rest of the week might be like this. Thank goodness the kids are with Liam this week. Only need to worry about myself.

 **TC:** So sounds like ur really busy

 **AH:** Understatement!

 **AH:** But I’d like to see you. Fri night? Sorry it’s so far away.

 **TC:** Works for me. I’m getting used to 8am-4pm work days anyways. Syt

 **AH:** Great.

_I definitely need to figure this ‘Syt”..._

“Arms!”

I jolt out of my post-text haze when I hear my name. I look up to see Sadie winding her way around the tables. I rise to meet her with our customary two-kisses, and then she bear-hugs me as tight as her little body can. She finally releases me, and flops not-so-graciously into the club chair.

“Ugh! What does a girl need to do to get a drink ‘round here?”

“Not much, I promise. I decided my day deserved wine. I ordered us a bottle. Jacques is grabbing it right now.”

“My hero! Now onto the important stuff!”

“Work? Yes, I was slammed today. It looks like Susan will be gone for the entire week.” I smirk knowing full well Sadie has no interest in my job at the bank.

She doesn’t even utter a word, only sending visual daggers across the table, crossing her arms and harrumphing loudly.

“Oh, was there some other important ‘stuff’ you wanted to talk about?” I jab.

Sadie eyerolls. “Perhaps something happened to you Saturday evening that you might care to discuss?”

“Oooooh Saturday. Saturday was good. Very good indeed. Sunday though. Sunday was even better.”

Jacques arrives and runs through the routine: the corkscrew, the cork, the sniff, the sample, the ‘oh that’s quite good,’ and finally the pouring of two generous glasses of Pinot Noir. The entire ceremony takes less than two minutes, but I can see Sadie begin to erupt with anticipation at my next words.

I take a big sip, savouring it before I begin. “Mmmm, that really is tasty. I love the pepper notes from this vintage. I’ve had some pretty ‘flat’ Pinots lately. You?” I look at Sadie knowing full well I am provoking her.

“Armie, I don’t give a flying fuck about the notes of this wine. It could be Kool-Aid for all I care. Give me deets, or I am wrestling your phone from you, and contacting this Timothée-Timmy directly. Do I need to remind you of the jello shooter incident of Halloween ‘08?”

Geez, now I know she’s serious. That’s a low-blow. “Okay, okay! I surrender! Saturday night after I got home, Timmy and I had several drinks at my place which evolved into us chatting until well past 1am. My god Sadie. He is ridiculously smart. He defended his thesis in September! He just landed a job at Sick Kids working with children who are in long-term care. I think he helps them work through their feelings at being sick? Anyways, it is very clear that he is really intelligent, and he is great with Harper and Ford. He had them figured out, happy and asleep well before I came home. I had no idea that a guy who makes my kids happy would be such a turn-on.”

“So beyond this guy being smart, anything else memorable about the night?”

“He appreciates bourbon?”

“That’s hot.”

“Really it was all flirty, it was comfortable… it was…”

“Perfect?”

“Yah, you could say that. Well except for the part where I felt like I had to keep my head in the game. I didn’t want him to figure out that I was a dumb jock.”

“Armie, first of all, you are barely a jock anymore. Do you even play in that beer league anymore?”

“Ouch, that hurts,” I wince in jest, but to be honest her comment grazes pretty close to the truth.

“Armie! Yes, you were a student athlete. That’s nothing to be ashamed of. And I will remind you it was your grades that got you into the University of Toronto’s Business Program, not your ability to throw a hip-check. So don’t be selling yourself short. Sounds like this Timmy might be smarter than you regarding Child Psychology, but I think you probably know lots more about Business.”

“I guess you’re right. And maybe knowing someone who can help me understand my munchkins might come in handy.” I say out loud, but I still feel less than convinced of my intelligence.

“That’s the spirit! So what happened on Sunday?”

“I didn’t know what to say to him as he left Saturday night. I wanted an excuse to get his number…”

“Arms, I think you could’ve just asked. Didn’t he leave after 1am? I think at that point it was pretty clear he was sticking around because he was interested, not just being polite.”

“Really? Well, I thought I needed an excuse so I invited him to join me and the munchkins at the Christmas Children’s Festival.”

“Brilliant Hammer! Well played. Well played.”

“Why thank you, Ms. Sherman, I do occasionally have moments. Anyways, we were all having a great time and so I invited him to join us at F’Amelia for our Sunday night pizza.”

“He said yes of course.”

“Of course. And that went great too. He even impressed Rosa.”

“No one impresses Rosa!”

“I know! Anyways, we went back to the condo, put the kids to bed.”

“Put the kids to bed together?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my god, how adorable!”

“Yes Sadie. All very adorable. Anyways he then said he needed to leave, as he had an early start today.”

“Oh no Armie! It can’t end there.”

“No it doesn’t! I switch on the Hammer charm.”

“To be honest Armie, it has been a little while since that has been activated. How did it work?”

“My charm, worked like a charm. He agreed to stay for one nightcap.”

“Amazing!”

“Well… except he switched on the timer on his phone. I guess he was worried that we might get distracted and he might stay too long…”

“So? Did you get ‘distracted’?”

I clear my throat and blush.

“Oh my god you did! Armie Hammer got distracted!” Sadie exclaims a little louder than I would prefer.

“Okay, calm down Sadie! The bar doesn’t need to know that I got a little action last night.”

“I don’t care, Armie! It has been at least eighteen months! The Great Armie Drought is over!” 

She leans over to high-five me, I leave her hanging for a few seconds, before gently patting her hand. Yup that’s my Sadie.

*****

“Mister Hammer, may I run over your schedule for today?”

It is 8am, and both me and my assistant have arrived early so that I can try to keep on top of my work as the Director of Eastern Toronto Banking, and pick up the VP of Ontario’s appointments as well. I am the youngest Director ever named, and it is a big deal that I am responsible essentially for half of Toronto. I could have a much less important area of the province.

“Yes, go ahead Jayme. What is my day looking like?”

She begins listing meeting after meeting. All of them thankfully seem to be ones that I am quite capable of covering, or in the least can fake moderate understanding of.

“And then the car will pick you up at your condo at 7:00pm. The gala begins at 7:30 at the Shangri-La.”

“What, Jayme? A gala?”

“Yes. Remember Ms. Jain was accepting the Rainbow Community Partners Award on behalf of the bank this evening? You are now taking her place.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to this.”

“Well, I guess you didn’t agree to it, but I told you about it while you were walking between your 12:45 and 1:30 yesterday…”

“Oh alright. What are the details?”

“It’s black tie…”

“What? Shit, I haven’t had my tux out in over a year.”

“No problem, Mister Hammer. If you give me your house keys, I can go to your home and prepare it.”

“Thank you. That will really help.”

“And who is your plus one?”

“I need a date? Oh, uh… can you leave it just as plus one?”

“Absolutely sir. I will let the organizers know.”

*****

 **AH:** Sadie, my dear dear friend.

 **SS:** What do you need?

 **AH:** You’re amazing.

 **SS:** Duh

 **AH:** I need a +1 to a formal event TONIGHT. Can you join me?

 **SS:** No

 **AH:** What? No? I need HELP!

 **SS:** Well maybe. Ask that hot French boy first. If he says no, then I will go.

 **AH:** Seriously?

 **SS:** Yup. Give me 2 hours notice if I need to get myself pulled together. ASK THE BOY!

 **AH:** Ok.

*****

 **AH:** Hey

 **TC:** Hey yourself!

 **AH:** Kinda need a favour. A big ask.

 **TC:** Intrigued

 **AH:** I need a +1 for tonight for a work thing.

 **TC:** Absolutely

 **AH:** Really? But I need to mention it is formal.

 **TC:** Ok. How formal?

 **AH:** Black tie… I am so sorry, but I literally found out about this 20 min ago.

 **TC:** I can make it work.

 **AH:** Really?

 **TC:** Really

 **AH:** You’re the best! I will have my assistant provide you with the details.

 **TC:** Np Syt

 **AH:** <Thumbs up emoji>

*****

 **AH:** He said yes

 **SS:** He said yes - Have fun Cinderella <3

*****

Jayme and Timmy decide that it is easiest for him to meet me in the Shangri-La’s Hotel’s lobby just before the gala. Jayme has done wonders, freshening up my tux, and put the accessories in order. I have no idea how Timmy will manage to do the same for himself. I imagine most recent university graduates do not have tuxedos hanging in their closets. When I arrive, the lobby is full of people. It reminds me of the buzz it gets right around TIFF each year. How will I find him, and then…

_HOLY FUCK._

_Fuck_

_Fuck_

_Fuck_

“Armie!” Timmy has the biggest smile on his face and waves _like I couldn’t notice him in the crowd._

He looks perfect--more than perfect. His black suit is sinfully fitted. The jacket accentuates his slim body and hands. His hands? How have I never noticed those expressive instruments before? His blush coloured shirt is the perfect shade to feature Timmy’s pale complexion, and ‘pops’ against his narrow black tie which draws my eyes up his neck… _yum that tasty neck_ , to his jaw. Fuck, you could cut glass with those angles. But the pièce de résistance are his curls. His hair was amazing last weekend, but he has done something different? Special? For tonight, because each curl shimmers in the light. And now he’s taking his blessed hand and running it through his hair?! How is he my date?

Timmy approaches quickly, embracing me in a quick hug. “Dude! I was getting worried I wouldn’t find you with all these people, but it definitely helps when you’re a half head taller than the rest of the room!” He takes a step back to look me over. “Looking pretty fine there, Mister Hammer!” Timmy exaggerates his inspection looking up and down and biting his lip. _The fucking lip again!_

“You’re looking pretty hot yourself Timmy. This suit is perfect on you. May I ask how you managed to pull this outfit together?”

“Clothes are an interest of mine. I might not have the money to buy the big names, but I know how important a good fit is. So this is one of two suits I own, and at lunch I ran out to The Bay and bought a new shirt and tie to take it from daytime to night. How’d I do?”

He spins, with a triumphant smile on his face.

“Well, when I need to buy another suit, I know who I will bring shopping with me. You look like you’ve been waiting for a reason to attend a gala. So I guess we should head to the ballroom?”

“Lead the way!”

_I feel like the luckiest guy. How do I deserve such a nice and hot date?!_

We pause at the door to show our invitation.

“Welcome, Mister Hammer I have you and your plus one…” the hostess pauses to await the name.

I look at Timmy, realizing that I cannot remember his last name. Chambers? Channing? Without missing a beat he steps in to rescue me.

“Doctor Timothée Chalamet.”

_Doctor? Doctor? He’s a doctor? Yes, of course he is a doctor. He just defended his thesis, which means he has a Ph.D! I’m a fucking idiot!_

“Mister Hammer and Doctor Chalamet, right this way.”

We are shown to our seats and invited to join the other guests near the bar where hors d'oeuvres and drinks are being served.

Timmy and I are immediately offered champagne that we accept. I down my quickly, my head still reeling--he’s a fucking doctor. _How am I dating… scratch that, hanging out with a doctor? I’m a fucking jock! I’m not capable of keeping up with someone with a Ph.D!_

My thoughts are interrupted. “Armie! I am so glad to see you here!” I turn to see Candice from the Film Festival board. She extends her hand towards me.

I reciprocate. “Hi Candice, so nice to see you too. This is my friend, Timothée. Timothée, this is Candice from the LGBTQ Film Festival board I volunteer with…”

Timmy jumps in immediately, shakes her hand and comments about the festival and article he read last weekend in _Toronto Life_ magazine. The two animatedly talk about films. I add my thoughts, especially proud of my insider information about Xavier Dolan’s current project. Both are quite impressed, but the conversation soon turns to Timmy’s job. Candice is dazzled, as she has a son who has Autism and benefits from play-therapy.

Soon a few more colleagues from the bank join us. All are very interested in Timmy’s career. He skilfully works the group. His laugh is infectious, and there’s more than a few who are enamoured quickly with him. Timmy even smoothly defers to several of them. “You’re parents. Don’t think your experience is less important than mine. I had to study to know what I know. You live it everyday!” _Very kind Timmy, but I know that your degrees trump my experiences. What the fuck could I know that would equal your knowledge?_

After a few more minutes, we are ushered back to the dining room. I try to keep up appearances--I am the face of the bank tonight! Smile-smile-smile! I pull out Timmy’s chair for him and sit down beside him. He smiles at me, but there’s a quizzical look on his face. He can sense there’s something off with me. _Fuck on top of being a genius, he’s a mindreader too?_ Throughout dinner he reaches occasionally for my knee under the table--quickly squeezing and smiling. The conversation at the table during the meal is light and friendly. There is no more talk about Timmy’s profession, but I no longer feel like talking much at all. _What could I, the dumb jock possibly add?_ I am polite to the table and Timmy, but nothing more.

After the ceremony, Timmy tucks his arm in mine as we head towards the coat check. He leans in and gives me a light head bonk on my shoulder. It makes me smile for a second, reminding me of our time at the festival last weekend.

“Is everything okay?” he queries.

“Yup.”

“Are you sure? You’ve been pretty quiet tonight.”

“Really? Hadn’t noticed.”

“Did I do something wrong? Say something to upset you?”

“Nope.”

“Hmmm. Okay. Do you want to grab a nightcap in the hotel bar before we leave?”

I pretend to yawn. “You know what Timmy, I had a really long day. When I awoke today, I didn’t even know I would be out this late. I think I need to get home. I’ve got another three days of chaos at work to get through. Is that okay?”

“Yah, that’s okay… I think though, I think I am going to grab the subway home. No need for your car to detour all the way up to my place in Highpark.”

“Really? It’ll take you at least thirty minutes to get home by transit. The car will have you there in fifteen.”

“No, that’s alright. You need to get home to bed. Good night Armie.” Timmy gives me a quick peck on the cheek and departs. He looks disappointed.

I watch Timmy walk away and turn the corner towards the subway station. I am left feeling empty and alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'd like to see some visuals I have made to accompany this fic, check out my Instragram feed @pluperfect_lover.


	4. Because You Knew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armie makes amends, saccharine ensues.

“You what Armie? Please tell me I’m misunderstanding you,” Sadie sighs.

We’ve met up for an early lunch at a pub around the corner from my office. Sadie has expressed concern due to my ‘radio silence’. She knew something was wrong, but gave me a few days to sort it myself, but when I still wasn’t snapping out of it, she insisted on this summit.

I stare at her and shrug my shoulders. She totally understands.

She continues, “So Timmy does you a massive favour, and attends the gala with you. He even manages to pull off formal wear attire by running out at lunch, AND then performs a miracle and creates a hair masterpiece of angelic curls, making him the belle of the ball?”

“Yes, that’s right.” I stare into my 11am martini, which I wish was triple the size, so I could drown myself in it. “Oh, and I think he was wearing lipgloss. His lips were shiny and a little rosier than usual,” I crack a small grin at the memory, before returning to my wallowing.

“Right, so this angel, in subtle lip gloss, managed to ingratiate himself--to a room full of complete strangers, and with people you respect and admire--because he works with sick, vulnerable children, and you… you what? This is where I am a little confused…” 

Sadie stares at me, waiting for me to relieve her of her confusion, but I have nothing to add.

She tries again. “Was Timmy smug?”

“No, absolutely not.”

“Was he rude and abrupt to you or your friends and colleagues?”

“No! I can’t imagine him doing that at all.”

“So he acted like a complete gentleman, who is capable of conducting small-talk?”

“Yes,” I say quickly and nod.

“And he never said or did anything to upset you? Or surprise you?”

“Well, I guess there was something as we were heading into the venue that I was surprised by.”

“Uh-huh? What happened?”

“He introduced himself to the hostess as Doctor Timothée Chalamet--and I was totally not prepared for him to be a doctor.”

“Wait, he’s a doctor? I thought he was a researcher.”

“Well he has a Doctorate degree.”

“Right! Well okay. Good for him. If I had one of those, I would probably call myself doctor too! So, what’s the big deal?” She pauses and then a light goes off for her. “No Armie. Are you serious? This again? I am having flashbacks to university.” Sadie looks stern.

“What?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I thought your little, ‘I’m not worthy’ sidebar on Monday was just a blip, but it’s not! You don’t think you’re in this guy’s league. What has he said or done to make you think this Armie?” Sadie leans off her barstool and gives me a side hug and puts her head on my shoulder.

Her hug feels so good. It’s comforting. It is always tough when I don’t have the kids, and this thing with Timmy this week has left me feeling more needy and vulnerable than normal.

I let out a big sigh, “You know I am always worried about my intelligence compared to others. I am so used to people looking at me--sizing me up--and assuming that I’m good to play on the corporate baseball team, but when it comes to making big business decisions there are others they want to turn to.”

“Armie, didn’t your boss Susan hand-pick you to be the Director of Eastern Toronto?”

“Yah.”

“And weren’t you aware of several others vying for the same promotion? And hey, weren’t you the youngest candidate by almost five years?”

“Yah.”

“And since taking on the role fourteen months ago, your team has… what were the words you said to me? ‘Grown to better represent the faces and needs of some of Toronto’s most diverse communities’.”

“Yes, that’s true.”

“And hasn’t Susan spoken to you about your long term goals with the bank, namely it being realistic that you could be a VP before you’re forty? FORTY Armie! VP before FORTY. Shit, I hope to have more than $500 in my Savings account by the time I’m forty, and you’re set to become a bank VP!”

“Geez Sadie, I didn’t think you really listened when I talked about my job. I thought you smiled, nodded and ordered us another round.”

Sadie winds up and gives me a good punch in the shoulder. “Idiot.”

“Hey! That wasn’t necessary!”

“Really? Because I am sick to death with this pity party on repeat Armie. You’re awesome. You’re great. It was sad when you and Liam broke up--I don’t think any of us were prepared for it--but I think you can see it is for the best.”

“Definitely,” I nod.

“So it is now time for you to allow yourself to be happy again. And while I am not going to claim to be a fortune teller and predict that this French boy is the answer to all of your problems, I do know you find him attractive.”

“For sure,” I grin.

“He is great with your kids.”

“The kids love him.”

“And--OH MY GOD--He has brains! Which I know you are not shallow enough to claim is a bad thing. A guy with brains is a good thing.”

“Yes, yes, you’re right.”

“So Mister Armand Hammer, what should you do?”

“I should kick myself in the ass for being an idiot?”

“That’s a good place to start, and then?” Sadie’s eyebrows are arched awaiting my reply.

“I need to apologize right away to Timmy and hope he hasn’t found a hot pediatrician at his new job.”

“Okay, let’s stick to the first part of that solution and apologize, okay?”

“Sounds like a plan. Thank you Sadie for helping me remove my head out of my ass.”

“My pleasure Armie. Now if I could help you get something else put up there instead, I think you’d be happier!” Sadie smirks.

I roll my eyes. There is no need to dignify her comment with a response… although her idea is not terrible!

*****

**AH:** Hey Timmy

*****

_ \--Two hours later-- _

**AH:** Hey you. I owe you an apology.

*****

_ \--An hour later-- _

**TC:** I’d like to play coy Armie, but yes, you do.

**AH:** May I still take you out tonight? I know on Monday we made plans for Friday night dinner. I’d like to apologize in person.

**TC:** I don’t know if I’m up for dinner. Why don’t we meet for drinks and then see about dinner?

**AH:** That is fair. You name the time and place and I will be there.

**TC:** The Lockhart, 7:30 - It’s on my side of town.

**AH:** Got it. Syt

**TC:** Syt

*****

It’s almost 3:00, I’ve got a few hours. “Jayme, can you figure out where The Lockhart near Highpark is and how long it is going to take me to get there?” My murderous work week still has a few hours left in it. My assistant has been with me through it all. I know this small request will be one of her easier tasks.

“The Lockhart, Mister Hammer? I love that place! I never would have thought you a Potterhead!”

“Potterhead? Like as in Harry Potter?” I question.

“Yes, it’s a Harry Potter themed bar in Little Portugal. It’s cute. So are you familiar with the books or films?”

_ Well yes I am! _ “Yup! I read them all! I’m Gryffindor. How about you?” I smile.

“Slytherin, but don’t tell anyone. Us snakes have a bad rep!” Jayme giggles.

“Listen Jayme, what is your afternoon looking like? I’d really appreciate it if you could run some errands for me.”

She looks at her watch. “I need twenty minutes to finish up word processing the weekly report for Ms. Jain. The rest of my pile can wait until Monday.”

“Great. Come find me when you’re done. I’ll have a list for you. It shouldn’t take more than an hour or so to complete.”

*****

I arrive about ten minutes early to The Lockhart. I order a bottle of stillwater for our table and wait for Timmy nervously. I play with my tie. It’s new and a little stiff. Ironically I chose not to wear a tie to work today because it is Friday, but now to be appropriately dressed for my date I’ve put one on. The new cardigan Jayme also picked up for me fits perfectly. Between her and Timmy, I might not ever have to buy clothes on my own ever again--well, if he accepts my apology that is.

The Lockhart is darkly lit. There are little homages to the books and films, but nothing too overt. To someone who is not a fan, they’d think the place is obsessed with wizards and magic, but to a ‘Potterhead’ there are Easter eggs galore hiding throughout the place. My favourite thus far, is the infrequent but distinct sound of someone crying down the hallway towards the washrooms.

At 7:30 I hear the door open, and a cool breeze from the December night rushes into the bar. I look up to see Timmy walk in. I wave, he nods and makes his way over to me. I’m not able to tell if he is happy at all to be here or not.

Timmy settles in his seat, opposite to me. His eyes take a moment to adjust to the dim lighting, and he runs his fingers through his hair.  _ Those hands - That hair.. _ My heart begins to thump.  _ FOCUS ARMIE! _

“Hey,” he nods.

“Hi. Thanks for meeting me Timmy. I know that you probably have no interest in seeing me, so I really appreciate this.”

“No problem. It’s fine. It’s cool you came out my way. Thanks. Wanna order a drink?”

_ It’s fine? Isn’t that word the kiss of death? ‘I’m fine. You’re fine.’ But no one really is! _

I reply without skipping a beat, “Yah, sounds good. What do you recommend?” I flip through the lengthy list of cocktails--mostly ones I have never heard of.

Timmy doesn’t even look at his menu. “I like the ‘Gin Weasley’ myself. I’ve had a few friends try the ‘Dementor’s Kiss,’ but no one has been able to finish it--there’s ghost peppers in it. You can order alcoholic ‘Better Beer,’ which is of course their take on Butter Beer. It’s pretty good because it comes with a toasted marshmallow.” A small smile starts to form on his face.

The server comes over and takes our order. Timmy settles in a little more, which is good, because I am feeling nervous enough for the two of us. He looks at me, and then really looks at me for the first time since sitting down.

“Hey, is that?” He leans across the table to get a closer look at me. “Gryffindor?” He reaches across the table and pulls gently at my necktie. A smile claims his face. “Even your black cardigan has burgundy trim on it--cool!”

_ Thank you Jayme! _

“Does that surprise you that I’m Gryffindor? The Sorting Hat was pretty definitive for me,” I smile back.

“Hmmm. I should have known. I am a little embarrassed that I hadn’t considered what your house would be. I’m--”

“Wait! Let me guess!” I plea.

Timmy stops, nods and lets me proceed.

“I have it narrowed down to two options. Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff.”

“Hufflepuff?!” A look of disgust crosses Timmy’s face.

“My thoughts exactly, which leads me to believe that you’re Ravenclaw. Am I right?”

“Yes!” Timmy looks proud like a puppy and beams.

“Good.” I reach down under the table, grab the bag I have hidden and pull out a Ravenclaw hoodie. “I hope this fits, but I thought you’d blend in better here at The Lockhart if you were wearing your House colours.”

Timmy accepts the sweater, rubbing the soft fabric on his face, and then trying it on. “This is really unexpected Armie. Thank you. But what would you have done if I had said a different house?”

“Full disclosure, I have a hoodie from each house in the bag… A guy can never be too prepared when groveling for forgiveness.” I shrug my shoulders and smile.

The server interrupts and brings our drinks. Timmy’s gin drink has a creative garnish of an orange peel sculpted into a heart. My ‘beer’ is in a mason jar and is topped with the toasted marshmallow Timmy had promised. 

“Cheers,” I say and we clink our glasses together. We both smile. Much of the early tension dissipates.

“I hope I don’t sound like I am going too fast,” I say, “but this feels like a date. Is this a date?”

Timmy pauses to choose his words carefully. “You know Armie, when I walked in, I wasn’t sure what this was, but I think at this point, yes, I think this is a date.”

“Oh, that’s good. That is really good to hear.” I reach down into my bag for one last thing. I hand Timmy a small, tightly gathered bouquet. “If it wasn’t a date, I wouldn’t feel right giving you these.” I hand him the bouquet wrapped in brown paper.

Timmy blushes a little, and smiles. He accepts the bouquet and opens the top of the paper and looks in. He inhales deeply, and smiles. “They’re fresh herbs.”

“Fresh herbs.” I nod. It is actually a mixture of rosemary, mint, lavender and lemon balm. The smell is confusing but pleasant.

“Because at Hogwarts they study herbology?” Timmy smiles.

“Exactly.” I grin a big goofy smile. I am not going to try to play myself off as cool.

“The herbs were your idea?”

“Yup. I’m what you’d call a ‘Potterhead’.”

“Hmmmm, and you’re a Gryffindor…” Timmy ponders.

“I hope a Ravenclaw is okay with being seen out with a Gryffindor?”

“Ravenclaws are very open-minded. It is only logical to hang out with hot Gryffindors.”

“So I’m hot?”

“Don’t push your luck Armie,” but there is a big grin that accompanies the faux warning.

We both take sips of our drinks, holding our gaze towards the other. Timmy picks up the bouquet and takes another sniff before continuing.

“So what exactly happened Tuesday night? It started off so well. I really enjoyed the cocktails, and meeting your colleagues, but as the night went on, you went silent. I’ve been wracking my brain, and I can’t figure out what I did.” Timmy looks down into his drink and swirls it a little.

“It’s definitely not anything that you did. It was me. All me being a dumb oaf.”

“Armie, you’re certainly not dumb and you’re certainly not an oaf.”

“Well, I guess that’s how I feel sometimes when I am with people that are so much smarter than me, like you are. I sometimes feel intimidated being around you Timmy. Like I have nothing smart to bring to the conversation. I’m really sorry. I know I shouldn’t take my insecurities out on you.”

“Whaaaat? I’m not smarter than you.”

“How can you claim that you’re not? You have a Ph.D!”

“Yes, you’re right. So I guess I am really smart in one tiny field compared to you. But you have a wealth of knowledge that I know nothing about. Just think about finance. Armie, if you saw the amount of student loans I owe, you would cringe. I’ll be paying them off literally for the next ten years.”

“But was the debt incurred worth it?” I ask.

“Of course, and I’m really proud of my accomplishments, and that I have landed a job in my field, in the city I want to live in, less than a year after graduation. Not a lot of other graduates can claim that. But dude, I have been living in libraries and research facilities on campus for almost eight years. I know nothing about anything important.”

“Oh,” is all I can manage. Between Sadie and Timmy, I think they are starting to get through to me.

“Please don’t feel like I think myself superior to you, or anyone else who doesn’t have a Doctorate. BUT, that being said, I will also not hide my accomplishments to make your ego feel better. So if me referring to myself as ‘doctor’ is what started this spiral--and now in retrospect I think it might have--you’re going to have to learn to deal with it. I worked really hard to earn that title, dude.” He looks at me sternly.

“I’m going to have to learn to deal with it? As in, you will see me again after tonight?” It is almost too much to hope for.

“Now, you ARE being dumb Armie. I like you. That is why I am here and not at home in my sweats watching TV!” My heart leaps again for the second time tonight. “But as I was saying, I’m sure you have things you’re proud of. I know your kids are amazing, so that is a given. Your condo is fucking sweet, so you must being doing well at the bank you work at.”

“Yah, I’m doing well with my career. I am actually the Director of Eastern Toronto. I report directly to a VP--it was her workload I had to manage this week actually,” I grin.

“With Canada’s largest bank? See, I told you! And what are you? Thirty-five? That’s pretty impressive.”

“I’m thirty-six, but I get your point.”

Timmy whistles.  _ He’s puckering those lips again! _ “So you’re the older guy…” His lip twitches with a smirk.

“I guess so. Wait how old are you?”

“Almost thirty. Actually my birthday is at the end of the month between Christmas and New Years.” Timmy grins and straightens up.

We continue to talk for a few minutes, the mood much lighter. It feels like we are back on track.

I decide to take a chance. “So, are you hungry? Are you willing to risk having a meal with me without the supervision of the munchkins?”

Timmy giggles, “Sure, but I am ready to chill. This working forty-hours a week is murder!” He stretches. “You don’t have the kids this week, right? Could we order some take-out and maybe hang-out at your place? I hear the view is ‘to die for’.” He winks.

“Timmy, you’re a brilliant man. All of that student debt has not gone to waste, but I have an even better idea. You order the Uber to take us to my place and I’ll settle the tab. Let’s get moving.”

*****

“So we’re going to have a picnic? In December? I feel as though I am missing some pivotal information,” Timmy questions.

We have been at my home for less than two minutes and I am already buzzing around the kitchen.

“Well maybe I didn’t explain myself well enough. I was sent this colossal Christmas basket from one of the companies I support. It has a bunch of Italian meats and cheeses, so I thought it would be nice to nibble our way around Italy, while sitting in front of the gas fireplace and chilling out. I even think I have a few Italian bottles of wine to complete the theme. While I get the charcuterie board ready and grab the wine, can you get some blankets and pillows and set-up the picnic spot in front of the fireplace? If you need more cozy blankets, there are some on the top shelf in the linen closet in the hall.”

Timmy salutes, “I’m on it!” and spins to find the necessary supplies.

About fifteen minutes later Timmy has not returned to the kitchen yet, and I am almost done prepping the most epic charcuterie board ever! I can’t see the living room from where I stand in the kitchen.

“Hey Timmy? Where are you? Is everything okay? I am almost ready.”

“Coming!” Timmy tears around the corner, sliding in his socks. “I’m all ready for you! What should I carry?”

I motion to the serving tray holding the wine, corkscrew, glasses and serving plates. Timmy grabs it and heads back to the fireplace and I follow close behind with the food.

“What the…” my eyes turn to saucers. I cannot process what I am seeing in the middle of my living room.

“Do you like it?” Timmy grins as wide as I have ever seen him. “I thought if we were going to picnic, I could do it one better, and we could camp! I haven’t made a blanket fort since I was a kid! The opening is in front of the fireplace. Be careful not to kick one of the cushions. I am not an architect! This might be a very precarious structure.”

_ My heart bursts. There are tiny bits of heart goo falling out of my chest, ruining my new necktie. _

“Timmy, this is great. Here help me get in. This gigantic frame isn’t always graceful.”

He helps me maneuver into the blanket fort. When I am inside I realize it is not just a blanket fort, but he’s strung fairy lights.

“How… how,” I stammer, “How did you do all of this? It’s magical.”

Timmy smiles, “It’s a Ravenclaw secret, but I am glad you like it. And I hope Harper won’t notice that I stole her lights that string around her headboard. I’ll return them when we clean up.” Timmy lays down in the middle of the fort and pats the empty space beside him. “Just lay down, and look up. It’s so peaceful, Armie.”

I take his cue and join him. As soon as I do, he reaches for my hand. We lay there for moments? Minutes? Hours?

“I love this Timmy,” and a sigh escapes from me.

He turns his face towards mine, and studies it. I can see his eyes darting. My eyes, my lips--my ears, my lips--my hair, my lips--my nose, my lips. He gently touches my lower lip with his finger, and then runs it from left to right, and then right to left. Again and again as I lay there, watching him smile. He brings his lips to my mouth, warm and slow. Oh-so-slow. But as he realizes how famished I am, he lets my pacing take over. I wish I could calibrate my kiss the way he does, but I am unwilling to hide any longer how I feel for him. We kiss passionately for several minutes, and finally pull back for breath.

“Well that’s much better now,” he purrs.

“What? Compared to Sunday’s kiss? I will remind you, you put us on the clock that night!” I exclaim.

Timmy snickers, “Yah, that’s right. Listen this prince needs his beauty rest. Do you think this hair just magically happens every morning?” He flicks his hair back like he is in a hair commercial. “Now in all seriousness I am starving and that bottle of red is screaming to be opened.”

I take the direction, and pull the trays over. We dig in, laughing and enjoying our culinary trip around Italy.

*****

“Do you believe in déjà vu?” as I sip the dredges of our second bottle of wine.

“Totally. Are you having it now?”

“Yup. To be honest, I have had it a few times since we’ve been together. There was a moment when we were at the Children’s Festival when you leaned into me, and we were sitting silently, watching the munchkins play… It felt so comfortable. Like it was something we did every weekend.”

“Me too Armie. There are times where I just know you so well.”

“Although The Lockhart--that was definitely a new experience. I have never been somewhere like that before!” I laugh.

“But, you giving me flowers seemed familiar though.”

“Hmmm,” I agree.

Timmy repositions himself so his head is on my chest. I am sure he can hear my heart beating fast.

*****

We drift to sleep for fifteen minutes? I have no idea and I really don’t care as long as I am in this blanket fort with Timmy.

He stirs and then stretches. He pushes himself up on one elbow and looks around this cavern of warmth. A sly smile creeps on his face and an eyebrow raises. “Armie, what’s that over…” Timmy reaches across my body, trying to grab, something? And then suddenly, his thighs are straddling me. He sits on top of me, looking down with a devilish grin.

“Hey,” I say a little surprised. My hands instinctively wrap around his thighs.  _ My hands are huge on his legs! _ I begin to sit up, but Timmy playfully pushes me back down. I counter by running my hands from his thighs up to the hem of his hoodie. I push a little further and find bare skin. His breath catches for a second, seeming surprised at my discovery. Once it is clear that Timmy is happy with this advancement, I run my hands further up his back, reveling on the size of my hands on his lithe body.

In a swooping move Timmy grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head, leaving him shirtless. He licks his lips and bites down, with eyes that are screaming sinful thoughts. My hands now roam freely, and they greedily explore his back, and Timmy’s stomach.

My hunger for more Timmy skin pushes me to change positions, and in one sweeping move I hold onto Timmy, sliding out from under him, and laying him down on the blankets. From my position now on top, I kiss him languidly, taking my time to nibble that tease of a lower lip. I murmur filthy things while I do it, causing Timmy to giggle a little. I slowly move from his mouth, down his cheek, to his jaw--planting sweet gentle kisses, before continuing down his body. I kiss and lick from chin to neck to sternum to belly--only pausing to give reverence to the beginning of Timmy’s treasure trail. He has so little body hair, but he has this adorable patch beginning just below his navel. I take my time kissing, licking and sometimes playfully pulling the trail, until I get to the waist of Timmy’s low-rise jeans. I look up for the first time in a few minutes--to be honest, I have been very occupied--to see how he is, and all I see is a blissed out guy. He finally opens his eyes.

“May I?” as I motion to his jeans.

He responds with a goofy grin and a nod--I am not sure if he is capable of speaking.

I deftly undo his jeans, and pull them down. His boxer briefs are the tiniest little briefs I’ve ever seen.  _ Someone has been hiding that he’s a naughty boy! _ And these briefs cannot hide the throbbing cock fighting to come out. I cannot resist. I mouth the head of his cock through the briefs. Timmy hisses with delight.

I pull down his itsy-bitsy briefs. I look back up at him, lick my lips and then refocus. I start slowly at the head of his cock, warming it with my lips and swirling my tongue. I can begin to taste the brine of Timmy’s pre-come. It is something I want more of. I then quickly run his entire sex down my throat, gagging right at the end.  _ Shit this guy is hung. _ Timmy cannot resist the urge to thrust into my mouth, which is a major turn-on. I continue to work his cock with my mouth and tongue, while my hand massages and plays with his balls and teases his hole a little too. I fall into a trance. I focus on how to make Timmy moan, and then try to do it again and again. I am an explorer.

Within minutes his hips buck again, I hear a breathless, “Fuck Armie, I’m gonna come” and I look up to make eye contact with him. Timmy spurts hot seed into my mouth while we eye-fuck each other. God he tastes so good. I lick and suck until I am sure his load is spent.

Timmy looks down at me, and reaches his arms out to me. I slide back up beside him, and kiss him gently on the lips.

He snuggles himself into my side. “That was soooo good Armie. I want to do that for you too, but I just need five minutes. I am so spacey right now. I just need five minutes.”

Within two minutes I hear deep breathing, as Timmy’s head rests on my chest. I think this five minute rest might end up being a bit longer than that, but I’m not worried. I am feeling a wave of contentment that I haven’t felt for a really long time.

*****

Eventually we make our way from our cozy blanket fort to my bed. Timmy is the first person (other than the kids) I’ve had in my room since the divorce. We snuggle and kiss a little more, before spooning. I nestle my nose into Timmy’s curls, my arm wraps around his body, and I pull him in tight. I don’t want any space between us. I don’t want to ever let him go. This is good. This feels so right. I hear a little sigh escape from Timmy as he leans into me. Our breathing syncs. I realize he is feeling the same as me.

I know at that moment Timmy has moved into my heart…

And he already knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your support! This was a lot of fun to write, so I think I'll try some more. (I have a few other Charmie fics in the works!) If you want to see what I next whip up, make sure you subscribe to my name or follow my IG @pluperfect_lover.

**Author's Note:**

> I love these two guys, and you probably do too!  
> I hope my first attempt at writing for public consumption entertained you. Thank you for taking the time to read my daydreams!


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